


Locked In

by danrae



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternative Perspective, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23412655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danrae/pseuds/danrae
Summary: This was an old english creative writing project I wrote back in middle school.Recently re-reading it made me realize it is literally a fan fiction about the events after the island in lord of the flies.I may have gotten some of the mental illness portrayals wrong in this, and if I did, apologies.Events after they were saved from the island where the boys find themselves being lead into a mental institution, and diagnosed by a mysterious woman.
Kudos: 4





	1. Social Anxiety and Panic Disorder

**Author's Note:**

> This and the rest of this fic may be triggering for people with mental illnesses, the chapter names are the mental illnesses discussed, be safe.

_ Panic disorder is an anxiety disorder where the patient experiences frequent panic attacks which are periods of sudden fear, panic,helplessness or a feeling that something bad is going to happen.  _

_ Social anxiety is the fear of being publicly judged, or viewed negatively. People with social anxiety may also develop agoraphobia which is the fear of entering a situation which makes you anxious or panic, places that make you embarrassed or scared. _

“Hello, Sam and Eric it is very nice to see you, we haven’t met in a while, is there a reason for that?” She said with the most calming tone she can muster with her visual disdain for Eric and I. We both knew that she hated us for not coming to therapy sessions for so long because of our parents not wanting us to meet her. 

I look at Eric, the only other person that can understand me right now. He actually looks scruffier than usual and probably didn’t shower for days. My brother is more affected by this whole ordeal a little more than I am. He has intense agoraphobia and social anxiety and he’s scared to go outside, he hasn’t been outside in so long. Probably because he was more passive before, I was always the one to introduce us because I think he was too embarrassed to talk when he didn’t have to. 

“Hello? Sam what are you thinking about? Have you been taking your medication? I think you’re dissociating again.” She said with the most condescending tone I have ever heard. “Miss, not to be rude but it’s called thinking. I was thinking about something.” The air was quiet and she looked offended but I only started to care when Eric appeared as if he was going through an episode. I knew that Eric was feeling uncomfortable because I was provoking her to a potential verbal fight that he didn’t want to be in the presence of. I stopped talking to calm Eric down and we sat in silence for about 20 minutes until she finally said something. “So Eric have you been able to remember anything about the trip to the island recently?” Eric shook his head. “Ok I’m going to show you different pictures of things and you can just nod if you know what it is and shake your head if you don’t ok?” Eric wasn’t ready for the pressure but he reluctantly nodded his head. 

She first showed a picture of a parachute and Eric shook his head. She then showed a picture of a coconut tree and he nodded his head. She then hesitated showing the next picture as she wrote things down into her notepad. Eric’s expression turned from neutral into terrified in what felt like an instant. It was a picture of Piggy. Eric started panicking, why in the world did she think that was a good idea doing that. 

“What the hell is wrong with you lady, do you think that’ll help his anxiety?! You are insane.” I said as I attempted to console Eric as he was having a panic attack from all of the repressed guilt he felt since he couldn’t do anything to help Piggy or Ralph . I expected her to be mortified and apologise profusely like our parents. But she just kept writing in her notepad with an unreadable expression.

I can’t even begin to describe the horror in my brother’s face. I can see his heart darken with his dark thoughts that he used to tell me about after he had a bad nightmare and he was trembling on the bedroom floor as I attempted to console him. As his expression darkened, his breathing was accelerating and he began hyperventilating. I tried my best to help him but it’s been a while since he acted up like this. 

Then his breathing started to slow down, so I let go of him expecting him to sit back up but he slumped into his seat and passed out. 

“What the- lady do something!? Can you call the helpers or something? Why are you just standing there? Don’t tell me you’re like the others! Please.” I screamed as I never had to deal with my own brother passing out in my own hands and me being helpless to help him. I clutched onto his shoulders as if I will lose him if I let go and I call his name over and over. 

“Ok, Sam and Eric thank you so much for your time, I think we broke new grounds today ,and I think that you should come more often. Especially you, Eric.” She gestured to my passed out brother. 

I was so speechless. She thought that he was pretending to be unconscious so that she would leave. I don’t remember what happened afterwards. I remember screaming so hard and screaming after her as she walked towards the door. The guards stopped me and then I woke up back in my bed, without Eric’s bed next to mine.


	2. Psychopathy and DID

_ Psychopathy is a personality disorder where the patient has persistent antisocial behavior, impaired empathy with disinhibited, and egotistical traits. _

_ Dissociative personality disorder or multiple personality disorder is when the patient, to escape from trauma, guilt, grief or other traumatic events create multiple facets of their personality and they create a new identity. The science behind this disorder is still unknown but it is known as a coping mechanism for people who have been through immense trauma.  _

“So, your name is?” 

“Oliver Evenstein.” I didn’t want to be here. All I could feel were the footsteps that I can hear outside and the rustling of people in medical coats outside of the remote room this lady and I sat in. I didn’t know what to do after I had a little argument with my mom. I was confused why I was escorted into a police car and brought straight here. 

As soon as I exited the car, I was met with a pure white building with no windows and no antennas. Just a single white block in the middle of nowhere. I was scared, why did they bring me here? Did I do something wrong?. Thoughts of anxiety and fear run through my mind as my hand is gripped tightly by an officer. He then pushed me into this room. The wallpaper was pink and blue attempting to look inviting I presume. There was a white chair, a coffee table with what appeared to be 3 medicine bottles lined up. 

There was a woman in a leather chair opposite the white chair with a notepad in hand. Crap, I’m in a therapist’s office. I reluctantly sat down in the chair, expecting her to softly greet me like they usually did in middle school. 

“So why did you stab your mother 13 times with a fountain pen Oliver?”she said without looking up from her notepad as she continued to scribble things down through the deafening silence. What in god’s name was she talking about? 

“M’am I have no idea what you are talking about! I would never do that to my mother!” I said, with a creak in my voice. All I remember was that I was arguing with me mum about me not talking to anyone and not going to school anymore. It was just a disagreement it didn’t escalate that much, did it?

“Are you telling me that you don’t remember stabbing your mother to death Oliver?” She said smoothly without any trepidation as if it was routine to say these things to her patients. Of Course not! What in the world? My thoughts were abruptly cut with a sudden feeling of nausea and dizziness. It felt like the feeling I had when I was arguing with my mum. I was confused and scared and I felt myself slowly losing consciousness and the last thing I remembered was seeing the cold face of her staring at me, her notepad set down next to her and her hands on her knees, waiting. It was as if she was waiting for something to happen.

“Ok, so I will ask again, what is your name?” 

“Name’s Roger also what the hell am I doing here lady?” I have no idea where the hell I am. The only thing I remember is stabbing me mum with the pen I was holding trying to finish some work. It was her fault, she got in the way of my studies, I was actually making progress that day to understand psychology but of course. Mother had to ask if I was going to goto college. I needed her to shut up for a moment to get back into my reading so I did what I had to do. 

“So Roger, did  _ you _ stab your mother 13 times with a fountain pen?” She said with what sounded like a strange mixture of fear and curiosity. This is one sick person. 

“Yes I did. You can take me to jail or whatever I don’t really care.” I said with as much confidence as I could. Honestly, I did care but I evaded going to jail countless times using the mentally ill card. 

“Now, Roger, I will explain to you what you are experiencing first of all.” She said as she picked up her notepad and started to read off of it.

“According to my observation, you have Dissociative identity disorder or multiple personality disorder and exerting symptoms of psychopathy.” I eyed her up and down trying to understand what she just said trying to ignore the voice that was screaming in my head.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I said slightly stuttering still in shock for hearing that I am actually mentally ill.

“You have multiple personalities, your main personality is Oliver, who seems very nice during the short time I talked to him for. You however, is  _ something _ that Oliver wanted to suppress from the incident that happened a couple of years ago. You know on the island?”

I was shocked and speechless. I didn’t understand. Was I some kind of suppressed entity in another person’s body? Before I could even grasp what was happening around me, I heard rustling of her standing up and the rattling of a medicine bottle. My head was spinning and the only thing I could focus on was her high heels clacking on the ground and the rattling of medicine in the bottle. 

She placed the medicine bottle into my shaking hands and I felt the lid and felt the ridges to try and stop trembling. Why was I so surprised? I have so many gaps in my memory. I was probably more surprised by the psychopathic traits. I never thought that i was crazy, she’s probably just wrong.

She gestured for me to open it and she passed a glass of water gesturing for me to take it. I expected some kind of antidepressants or something because that’s what they usually give as a general medication for DID patients. I then opened the bottle to see pills of Xanax. Are you kidding me? You aren’t supposed to prescribe xanax for DID patients. You prescribe them to people with anxiety and stuff. There were so many in the bottle for one dose, unless she wanted me to become a brainless zombie.. That’s exactly what she wanted. 

I wore a blank expression on my face so as to not startle her and paused before closing the lid to the bottle. I stood up from the chair and looked for a window, there was a single one in the room that seemed like the only window in this whole building. As I started walking towards it, I could hear her screaming behind me but it all turned into a mumble and eventually white noise. Then I opened the window and jumped out in one swift motion. 

“Hello? Security? Please take care of what just fell from my floor. Thank you and also please send in the next patient right now, I have a gap in my schedule now.”


	3. Narcissistic Personality Disorder and Acute Stress Disorder

_ Narcissistic personality disorder is a personality disorder where the patient feels exaggerated feelings of self importance and the need for constant admiration and attention and a lack of empathy. _

_ Acute stress disorder is characterized as an acute sense of anxiety within one month after being exposed to something traumatizing. _

“Nice to see you again Jack, how have you been feeling lately? Tell me how it makes you feel to be here.” She squealed with the most annoying voice I have ever heard. She sounded as if she was already exhausted, the patient before me must’ve been a handle.

“I feel like this is a waste of time and you are the most annoying woman in existence.” I said with no hesitation because that is my thoughts completely, it’s good to be honest with your therapist right? 

“Excuse me!.. Anyways it’s good to see you too Jack, have you noticed any changes since I diagnosed you a few months ago?” She creaked in a more quiet tone to try and contain her anger and stay professional. She diagnosed me with narcissistic personality disorder and some other thing about anxiety I can’t remember. 

“Nothing much has changed lady, I still think that you are human trash and everyone around me is useless to me. Of Course I’m sure you are tired of me tooting my own horn but I do consider myself as a god in a human form. And-” 

“Ok, Jack please respect my position. Now I have seen that a type of phototherapy has helped one of my other patients you might know him.” I hate being interrupted when I’m talking. Especially by her. Since the beginning she has been mocking me and devaluing my entire existence. She doesn’t even understand what I went through to survive. None of the others do. Not even the doctors. It’s just me that understands. These fools.

“Oh what’s his name?” I said clenching my teeth trying not to scream into her face and asking why in the world she thinks she can interrupt me.

“Oh, his name is Eric. He’s a good patient I suppose-”

“Eric. And Sam. From.” I can’t remember, my head starts to pound so hard I can’t even think straight. My breath quickens and becomes more shallow and I am trembling in my seat. What was happening to me? Fear engulfed my entire body and I couldn’t even say a word. Once I was finally able to regain some sort of control after my body tensing up for a full 5 minutes, I looked up at her. I can’t tell what she’s thinking about. What’s the hellos wrong with me? I can normally tell what other people are thinking in an instant. 

“Well this is an interesting turn of events ey jack?” She said in that condescending tone she always talks in as if she knows everything. I can’t even muster the energy to talk. Lady and I sat there for what seemed like hours but when I looked back at the clock it had only been a couple of minutes.

I then hear rattling of medication. I swear to the lord she always prescribes me with random medicine that won’t even help me. She thinks I’m doing better because I’m just pretending. If I don’t pretend at all and be myself, she will just up my dose of ADD medicine. 

“Well don’t just sit there and shake in your little chair, take the medicine jack. I won’t let you leave the office until you have taken your daily dose ok?” 

She sounded so cocky today. Probably because I couldn’t say anything because of my condition so she was taking the advantage she had to degrade me. Payback, I guess you could call it but should a licensed therapist like that be doing that? 

A million thoughts are running through my head and it begins pounding with so many voices that I can’t make out. I begin to panic maniacally again. I look up to her for aid but all she does is point to the medicine bottle and pushes a glass of water to me. 

I bite the 4 ADD medicine and wait for the effects to kick in. I’m stood in my seat for another 20 minutes so lost and so afraid. I hated reminiscing to what happened on the island. Of Course I don’t think I did anything wrong, i was just protecting myself but I still feel anxiety and guilt for no reason. Why. I don’t deserve this. 

I then feel my mind begin to quiet down and I begin to calm down. The problem with the medication is that it doesn’t just quiet down the voices in my head. It also mutes everything else around me and makes everything feel so meaningless and lifeless. I slumped into my chair and apparently that was indicated to her that it kicked in. It’s as if she knows that she always gives me more than I’m supposed to have. 

She then pushes me towards a wheelchair and all I could do is look around as the background begins to change from a pink and blue background to the white wallpaper of my room. I can hear doctors and the adults whispering. I can’t make out what they are saying. I try to yell for help, so save me. The padded cell where  _ they _ say that I belong and everyone else that survived from the incident should belong.


	4. PTSD, Depression, and Drug Addiction

_ PTSD is a condition of constant mental and emotional stress from psychological shock typically with disturbance of sleep and constant recalls of the past and dull responses and view of the outside world. _

_ Depression is a medical illness that negatively affects how you feel, how you act and think and  _ _ causes feelings of sadness and /or a loss of interest in activities once enjoyed by the patient.  _

“So Ralph, have any of your symptoms come back since we last met? Has it already been a month now? How are things at home?” She rambled and I was sure she said some other things about withdrawal symptoms and everything but I didn’t care to listen to her fully. 

I remember when I first was prescribed morphine after I was rescued from that hell of an island. It felt like everything that I was feeling the helpless and numb feeling went away. All I could feel was the lack of pain from my dislocated shoulder and the general lack of pain from the outside world. It felt so nice I didn’t want it to go away. I was scared from leaving it. I claimed that my shoulder still hurt and surprisingly my doctor from this institute continued to prescribe me with a large dose of morphine. When my therapist found out, she claimed that I was addicted and trying to run away from my PTSD and depression symptoms. That may be right, but it felt so irritating to know that she was right. Everytime I look at her, I get into a fuss. Why does she have to have glasses? 

“Hello? Ralph? Are you alright? Should I prescribe you something or? Can you please look at me Ralph, you haven’t looked at me since the first time you saw me and I want to know why. If it’s because of my glasses, I don’t have them on. I know it brings back bad memories.” Wow, she’s more quick witted than I thought. She actually figured out why I was uncomfortable. 

I look up at her feeling slightly more comfortable and at ease. As soon as I look up at her, all I can see are her glasses. She did have them and she lied to me. Before I can curse her for lying to me, all I see is Piggy telling me why I didn’t save him and why I didn't listen to him. Instead of talking back to him which is usually what I do in my dreams, I tell myself over and over again that it’s not real. I can feel myself shaking and my leg starts nervously tapping and my lip is quivering. I’m trying to say words to tell her what is happening but nothing is coming out. My ears are ringing. I can’t tell what I’m saying. All I can do is mouth piggy’s name. I attempt to wait it out, it usually lasts for 10 minutes and sometimes I lose consciousness and let it flow through me. 

She kneels to eye height from me. The first time I’ve felt actual concern from this woman. Looking at her properly, her glasses look completely different from piggies and she has brunette hair and is very beautiful. She says in the most calm tone that she sounds like she can muster.

“This is why you children aren’t ready for society. You killed each other on that island. Don’t think I don’t know what happened. What is wrong with you.” She said as she sat up. I was panicking and I was left speechless. What does she mean by you children? Are the rest in this asylum? A million thoughts run through my head until I feel a sharp pinch in my arm and I black out waking up in the white room that I am all too familiar with. The only thing I can focus on are the voices outside.

“So Ms.Lady, have you seen any progress with these children? Ever since whatever happened on the island, most of them except for Oliver and Eric seem to be doing brilliantly. They are responding to my shock therapy so much better because they are on those drugs you prescribe them.” A middle aged voice said in a whispering tone as to not disturb anyone around him.

“Oh sir, I am so glad that you offered me this position and yes. We have seen tremendous progress on most of my patients. They seem to be accepting that what happened was all just a bad dream and at least nobody got hurt before they were rescued!” She said in a hopeful tone. The last thing I can hear is the clacking of heels down the hallway and the feeling of dread throughout the building walls and the wailing wind outside. 

Why do they never understand?


End file.
